


Pancakes On The Brain

by MariaMediaOverThere



Series: Seungchuchu Week Vol. II [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cisswap, F/F, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:16:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaMediaOverThere/pseuds/MariaMediaOverThere
Summary: SeungchuchuWeek 2 Day 3: Touch and Go – OfficePrija Chulanont can't muster up the courage to confess to her office crush, Lee Su-Jin, during Celestino's retirement party. She drowns herself in alcohol, hoping to lighten up, but finds herself somewhere strange the morning after.(Cis-swap Seungchuchu!)





	Pancakes On The Brain

 

Prija Chulanont supposes it could be worse.

Despite the fact that her head is thumping painfully and her mouth tastes like sand, a quick pat down her arms made her feel better knowing her watch was still attached to her wrist and not in some stranger’s pocket.

 

Eyes too strained too open, Prija’s hands travel her body, attempting to get her bearings.

 

 

Last night must have been a riot, considering it feels like she’s still wearing her office clothes. The skin of her legs itch- probably because she allowed herself to sleep with her stockings on. She’s due for another self-care day, she figures.

To say the previous evening got out of hand was being generously chaste with it. There are blurred fragments that flit through Prija’s mind, but all filtered by the dark and cheap beer.

 

After Yuri hopped on a swivel chair with a blind fold and tried to hit their make-shift piñata (which was actually just a box of staples hung from the ceiling lamp by packaging tape), Prija’s memory blacks out into nothingness.

 

 

Hopefully her phone was fully charged and she had some decent pics to post. Celestino’s retirement party was, with due optimism, not all for naught.

 

 

Steadying her psyche with a deep breath, there’s a smell in the air that she doesn’t immediately recognize. The wafting scent of pancakes has no place in her morning routine, as Prija is a dedicated practitioner in the habit of breakfast burritos.

Must be the neighbors.

 

Good for them.

 

 

 

 

But then Prija jolts awake.

 

 

Her neighbors moved out last week.

 

 

 

 

“Oh you’re awake.”

 

Prija was about to scream, not recognizing her co-worker immediately with her hair undid like that. Now that she does identify her, Prija wants to scream for a whole other reason.

Su-Jin is a shadow in their place of work; always in the background and seemingly unable to make a sound. With nifty sports earphones on (that never seem to be tangled), the Korean researcher stays out of everyone’s way, and expects everyone to stay out of hers.

 

Their cubicles were adjacent to each other back before Prija was moved to the article-editing department, and in those 8 months, it seemed like Lee Su-Jin never really learned her name. Sometimes she would ask Prija where she was going when she stood up, and, upon confirmation that she was going to the snack room, the Korean would ask for some coffee.

 

Prija would snap to attention at each and every opportunity- but Su-Jin never really did look up from her keyboard whenever she received her mug of liquid life-source.

 

 

Their relationship was strictly workplace acquaintances, and that would be fine if Prija didn’t have the gayest fucking crush on Lee Su-Jin in the history of gay crushes.

 

Just the way that she carries herself in a meeting with steely eyes and impeccable posture… Prija can do nothing but gawk when she presents something about ad revenue and outsourcing and whatever-the-fuck.

Her fucking bass too, oh my god. It’s a voice that betrays the fact that Su-Jin isn’t a chatty person. It’s curt and to-the-point, a little gravely, but in the spine-chilling sort of way that makes you want to imagine what it would sound like to have her say your name at 3 AM, between your thighs.

 

 

Yuri once caught Prija scribbling Su-JIn’s name in curly cursive in the borders of her memo book, and Prija hasn’t heard the end of it since.

As if her article-editor-partner isn’t practically on her knees waiting for Viktoria Nikiforov to come her way.

 

But goddamnit, Prija all but sprints to Yuri every time Su-Jin so much as briefly glances her way. Because she’s a loser who can’t take a hint that maybe her crush isn’t into people in general, obviously. Typical Prija, Yuri would sigh.

And yet _what the fuck_ \- **_what the fucking fuck_** is Prija going to tell Yuri now? She doesn’t even know what to tell herself to snap out of the daze that she’s swimming in at this very moment.

 

 

Su-Jin’s black hair, usually slicked back into a neat bun or low ponytail, falls down past her shoulders. Prija realizes, with much enthusiasm, that Su-Jin’s locks are wavy and have a slight bounce to them, in lieu of the immaculate straightness that Prija has always imagined it was (juxtaposed to how straight Prija is).

Still, she doesn’t exactly know what to do with this information that she’s filed away for safe-keeping, right next to the passwords of all her accounts and her childhood memories.

She cherishes it nonetheless.

 

The other thing to mention is… well, Su-Jin looks _fucked up_.

 

 

Her midnight blue pressed button-up is completely unbuttoned, with one shoulder slipping off, revealing the satiny strap of a very plain tan bra. The black a-line skirt that’s wrapped around her legs isn’t smoothed down, messily hiked up, with white hairs scattered around it.

There’s what looks to be a nasty bruise forming on the outside of her right leg, and one of her pearl earrings isn’t on her.

 

The more pressing matter is the smudged lipstick on her mouth, trailing her lips, smeared across her pale cheek, with dashes of pigments on her neck and even the side of her nose.

The color is… it’s…

 

 

Well, Prija _recognizes_ it, to say the least.

 

 

Up unless someone else in the office is very fond of a very specific shade of brown berry, Prija would have absolute certainty (and much horror) that it’s none other than her favorite Anastasia Beverly Hills “Kathryn” liquid lipstick that colors the lower half of Su-Jin’s face.

She’s fucking mortified.

 

 

In her usual collected conduct, Su-Jin doesn’t flinch at being subjected to Prija’s slack jaw and wide eyes. “I made pancakes.”

 

“You…” Prija lets out a shaky breath, “Made pancakes?”

 

“Problem?” Su-Jin cocks a thick and well-defined eyebrow that Prija now and forever will deny is somehow ‘natural’, despite what the Korean may say.

Her tone is sordid and seemingly disinterested, as if there’s nothing wrong with the situation right now. “Are you allergic or-”

 

“What **_happened_** last night?”

 

“Celestino’s retirement party.”

 

 

Prija’s compulsion to scream fulfills into action as she throws herself back on the mattress and hides her screeching and flushed face behind her hands. Postponed is the comprehension that Prija must be on _Su-Jin_ ’s bed right now, and she climbs another octave.

 

The bed dips and through her shriek, Prija can hear Su-Jin quip what suspiciously sounded like “I know you’re a screamer, but jeez.”

“Did we have sex last night?!” Prija demands, shame and fear reaching a fever pitch. She has to **_know._** There’s a distinct pain in her chest, and she figures it must be her heart pounding against her ribcage- from excitement, from terror, she’s not certain.

 

All that she knows is that her slacks are still on her, so maybe it wasn’t completely… complete. Her lungs seem ready to give with the exertion it takes to keep her from her hyperventilating to death.

 

 

To her credit, Su-Jin seems flustered at the sudden remark- a very rare feat it is to get more than a snarl or a nod of contempt from the analyst.

“I was kidding.”

 

“Uh-”

 

“About the screaming.”

 

“Oh.” Prija wants to punch herself, more so because she’s still lying flat on Su-Jin’s bed and can’t help her eyes from wandering down her co-worker’s exposed chest.

“So we… _didn’t_ hook-up?”

 

“We made out a bit and… you know, touched…” Despite the very flat intonation, the tips of Su-Jin’s ears, from where they can be seen behind her locks, are steadily getting pinker.

“Then you saw my dog and squealed so hard you gave yourself a headache and decided to call it a night.”

 

 

Prija wants to die. Right this very second. Right now. This moment in time. Right here. While she still has a scrap of dignity left.

 

 

“Su-Jin I’m so…”

 

“I get it.” Su-Jin dismisses, suddenly standing.

 

Prija shoves her blunt bangs away from her eyes, “No- No, you have to hear me out. I really need you to hear it, even if you know it.”

Although it’s clear that last night’s proceedings was no skin off Su-Jin’s teeth, brushing it off as if it was nothing… even if it’s not- I mean, it’s not _that_ serious, but…

 

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

 

Prija clacked her teeth shut. The apology didn’t come from her.

Su-Jin’s back is still turned and the button-up that seems haphazardly thrown on shows Prija tense shoulders. “I understand if you don’t forgive me for what happened last night, as I clearly took advantage of your intoxication.”

 

“My… what?”

 

The Korean puts her hands on her hips before turning, an unreadable expression looming on her face. “If your memory fails you: in the latter half of the party, I threw myself on you and must have harassed you into coming home with me. Luckily, I didn’t force you into any compromising positions and-”

 

“Wait wait wait- you threw _yourself_ on _me_?” Prija scrambles off the bed and notices a dark wine stain on the front of her yellow blouse.

 

“Yes?” Su-Jin’s façade gives way to worry that creases the skin between her eyebrows, “Why?”

 

“I thought it was _me_ that got _you_ to take me home!”

 

“And why would you have done that?”

 

“Because I-!” Prija shuts her jaw. Su-Jin looks at her expectantly.

 

 

Without her heels, Prija finds that she’s a few inches shorter than Su-Jin. The change in height dynamic makes her feel small- more so because she doesn’t know what the fuck is going on.

“Because I… I like you.”

 

 

Su-Jin doesn’t respond.

 

 

“I have for a long time now, and…” Prija shifts her weight from one foot to another, finding her calves uncomfortably strained- probably from shuffling home with those dreadful (but fabulous) stilettos she blew money on last month.

“I was planning on… confessing… to you last night. I really was. But I got so scared and- you…”

 

 

“I suppose we had similar agendas in mind.” Su-Jin coughs into her hand.

 

“Y-Yeah…?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

“So…” Prija can feel her fingers tremble from the anticipation bleeding into her system, “Does this mean that we- that you…?”

 

Su-Jin squints, which is her way of being in deep thought. It’s like the fates and destinies of every star in all the night sky are being put under her consideration when she says,

“I think we should finish the pancakes first. They’re getting cold.”

 

 

Prija groans low in her throat, only half-sincere. She massages the bridge of her nose, but laughs nonetheless, “Come on, now. I’ve been waiting for this since like forever! Why the fuck do you have **_pancakes_** on your mind at a time like this?”

 

 

To her shock, Su-Jin doesn’t hesitate reaching forward to gently press her palm to the Thai’s left breast. “I could think of your pancakes, I mean.”

 

“First off, rude!” Prija squawks, knowingly red in the face, but makes no motion to remove Su-Jin’s hand. Her very being was, however, immolating itself to the sensation touch. “I’m very sensitive about my bust size.”

 

The Korean’s face doesn’t falter a fraction. “Or lack thereof?”

 

 

“Watch your tongue, Lee, before I bite it.” Prija huffs, taking a step closer using every ounce of bravado she can fake.

The hand on her boob travels to her waist. It’s a delicate weight on her hip, but she feels the gravity of the situation practically bring her to her knees. Prija finds herself laughing and she doesn’t know why. She tells Su-Jin as much.

 

“You’ve always been crazy.” Su-Jin hums to Prija’s forehead.

 

“And you’re not? I mean, who matches yellow flats with an orange parka?”

 

“People who don’t have the time for those kinds of things.”

 

“I can always help you.”

 

“No thanks. If I have to be noticed in public for visual attractiveness, it better be because of my cute dog or my cute girlfriend.”

 

“ **SU-JIN!** ”

 

“Too much?” The hand on her waist retreats.

 

“No, fuck you! Oh my god, don’t just spring cute shit up on my like that, oh my god I’m gonna sob!” Prija whines into the crook of her girlfriend’s neck and shoulder.

There’s a hand on the back of her head that travels down her short locks, and for a moment, Prija wishes she kept it long only so those slender digits would get tangled up and stay there.

 

“Pancakes.”

 

Prija exhales. “Pancakes.”


End file.
